Battles, Pt.3

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“I think I have been in hiding long enough.”

She turns toward me and nods. “I think so too. What do you want to do?”

I look out at the plains, at the wide expanse, at the mountain borders, where beyond, in my mind’s eye, the battlefield lay. My brothers and sisters are armed and ready, alive with the purpose of pushing the enemy back. The weight of the armor I discarded for a time is still felt by my bruised shoulders. “I want to return. I want to be on the lines again.

“…but I am a little terrified. I failed to protect my purpose from wrong judgement. I’m afraid that if I see again how different agendas can be destructive, I might lay down my sword and not fight again.”

“What if, again, I get betrayed? What if I get consumed again by bitterness and suspicion? What if I begin questioning my allies? There’s no room in battle for my feelings. I am a bit hypocritical, but these are my feelings.”

“I envy you. A real threat to your life does not stop you from pursuing the mission.”

“I’ve asked for this for several years,” she smiles ruefully. “If I back down now, what happens to all the prayers I sowed all those times?”

I sit quietly and let the wind embrace me; the heat of the day consuming me like a beckoning whisper. I twist a hand around the hilt of my sword, the one I kept sheathed for a while.

A long while.

“I was wrong. I should have never let them stop me, no matter where their hearts were. My heart was in the wrong.” I pause, shaking. “It’s not my glory to fight, to begin with. I’m not winning this for myself, after all.”

“I want to go back, but how?”

She lets out a relieved sigh. “Then let’s go see the Commander.”

“We’ll go together. In the lines, in the foray.”

“Thank you. Because I know I can trust you.”

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